Showing posts from June, 2010

Glass Eye!

“SNARRRTTT!!!” (This is what PP’s little sis calls her—combine ‘fart’ and ‘snot’ and you get Snart. Okay, they were 9 when they made this up, so what do you expect? The strange thing is that they're 50 years old and still resort to this nickname. )

“Guess what I found?”

PP is afraid to ask. They’d been rummaging through little sis’s mother-in-law’s ‘Secretary’ Desk to find such treasures as: Letters about the weather from 1887; WW I Medals from great grandfather; several large ‘gold’ molars. So….PP didn’t really wanna know what the latest discovery was, but knew she had no choice.

“I don’t know. What did you find? I hope it’s not another tooth. I can’t handle that.”
“No, it’s not a tooth. Guess again.”
PP sighs, grins, “Honest, I don’t know. What?”
Lil' Sis holds up her cupped hands to PP’s face. Opens her hands to reveal….

“A GLASS EYE, Snart!” Lil’ Sis cries, delighted.
“GROSS!!!! Get it away from me!”
“Don’t you wanna hold it? It feels nice and smooth and cool and….”
”NO! I don’t wa…

Homage to the Albany Pool

On her little Monday walk thinking about the plot of Trollope in Residence and how a plane crash would most definitely move things along, PP realized she’d been walking right past Albany High for the last 10 months and it struck her. Isn’t that where the Albany Pool is where she took the Lovely I for her swimming therapy when she fell off the horse?

So…yeah. It is, she thought, getting excited, walking across the street and into the big high school arched entrance.

Yet, this didn’t seem right. Fortunately a friendly clean-up guy was sweeping the floor.

“Excuse me?” she asked.
He looked up, grinned.
“But isn’t there a pool around here?”
He laughed, leaning on the handle of his broom.
“There was a pool here. They tore it down.”

“Oh…” They tore it down? How the hell could that be? It’s sacrilege to tear down a pool, esp. one that was key to PP’s pool blog and the Lovely I’s recovery.
“Yeah…it was over there,” he nodded behind him. “You need to go back out and around. That’s where it was. They…


It was a small pitiful little murp. Like a kitten that’d been left out in the rain and had been mewing all night long. Its voice nearly gone, but had enough left to make the call into the night.

PP was on the toilet. So she only heard it. But knew right away who it was: Scraping Walker Woman.

“I always have to get dressed on the floor…otherwise I …..”

PP had overheard SWW explaining her reasons for being on the floor to someone who had asked. Or hadn’t. SWW liked to talk. PP could see why. What with her lack of mobility. She probably didn’t get out except to the Y here at Hilltopia and this took her all day.

So now, with the plaintive ‘murp’, PP flushed the toilet and headed in SWW's direction. And yes, there she was, on the floor, balancing precariously on one naked hip, eyes watery with tears just like Ellie Thompson in Katherine Anne Porter’s “Noon Wine.”

“Are you okay?” PP didn’t usually like to ask. Once she’d offered to pick up the shampoo bottle that SWW had been kicking alon…


"Thank God for the YMCA and the Internet!"

All the women in Hilltopia nod (or at least as far as PP can tell in the dark) as if this proclamation makes perfect sense. And maybe it does. PP can see why one would thank God (if one were so inclined) for the YMCA. She is thankful (though not necessarily to a Higher Power) every time she comes to the Y. Well, except for the times when the pool is closed. Or crowded. Or cold.

But this is beside the point. She is thankful for the Y.

But the Internet? Maybe. Maybe not. She thinks that the Internet is a huge ‘time suck’ as one of her students is fond of saying. In point of fact, PP has just spent the last 55 minutes looking for pictures of ‘cute….animals'or 'beautiful beaches',or 'baby cows' (you get the idea) on Google images so she can change her desktop image.

Almost an entire hour! Wasted! (Well, she did finally find a super cute pic of a gang of baby penguins. Here it is for your gushing approval.)

So the Interne…